


C'mon, Sammy...

by Voldetort



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Attempted Seduction, Biting, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Idk tell me if there are anymore tags i missed, Kissing, M/M, No Blood, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Sexting, Sibling Incest, Sibling Rivalry, Switch Dean Winchester, Switch Sam Winchester, Top Sam Winchester, lmao what am i doing with my life, only a bit tho, or at least he tried his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-05-08 17:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voldetort/pseuds/Voldetort
Summary: Basically just an excuse for me to write self-indulgent wincest porn.Dean just wants to have some fun... Sam is a little stubborn... but Dean manages to persuade Sam and they both end up happier than they expected...Have fun?





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> if you just wanna skip past the making out and to the real stuff find "listen", but you might be a little confused abt the setting?

_‘A Rakshasa is a demon or unrighteous spirit in Hindu and Buddhist mythology. Rakshasas are also called man-eaters ("Nri-chakshas," "Kravyads") or cannibals. A female rakshasa is called a rakshasi, and a female rakshasa in human form is a manushya-rakshasi. According to the Ramayana, rakshasas were-’_

Sam placed his finger on the line where he stopped reading when he felt Dean’s hands settle on his shoulders. He’d been in the batcave all day, scouring the local newspapers for potential cases, so far to no avail. Dean, however, had been lounging around all morning and was planning to sleep till noon, only getting up when Sam asked him to go out and buy some groceries just to get him out of the bunker for a little while; in the hopes that he could have a little peace and quiet.

“Hey, welcome home.”

“Mmm, thanks, Sammy,” Dean practically purred into his ear, breath warm on his brother’s cheek, smelling strongly of the black tar he calls coffee, and faintly of his minty toothpaste.

_Not right now,_ Sam was already almost completely immune to Dean’s little games, and he knew well enough when Dean was feeling ‘in the mood’.

“No, Dean, I’m looking for a case right now, can we do this later?” He knew that Dean was already perfectly aware that he was working and didn’t want to be interrupted.

“C’mon, Sammy, just for a little while…” He trails one hand up the side of Sam’s neck and into his long hair, gripping its soft locks carefully while he deliberately sneaks his other palm down the larger man’s firm chest, heading towards the taut abs hidden under layers of cotton and flannel, his intentions clear as day.

“You and I both know that ‘just a little while’ always ends up being all night.” Sam deadpans, unimpressed and doing his best to ignore Dean's advances.

He was beginning to nibble Sam’s earlobe, sucking on it gently and just barely grazing his teeth against the tender skin. Daringly, he sticks his tongue out and traces the shell of Sam’s ear with the tip.

Then his hand is swatted away from Sam’s crotch by an unamused younger brother.

“I’m serious, Dean.” Sam knew he was being stubborn, but he just wanted to find a good case or he would go insane. He hasn’t left the bunker in a few weeks and Cas was out there doing who knows what, and they hadn't heard any news from Jody recently, so Sam was itching to actually get some work done.

“Well, so am I, but it’s okay, you don’t have to do anything. Just sit there and look pretty…” Dean whispers enticingly, pressing kisses to Sam’s neck, steadily heading lower, dipping under his collar and sealing his lips onto the junction between his neck and shoulder.

He detaches his mouth with a moist ‘pop’ just before the suction could leave a real mark, a thin string of saliva still connecting his lips to his brother’s warm skin.

“Just let me finish this chapter and then we can do whatever you want. Please, I swear I’m going crazy without a real hunt.” Sam practically begs at this point.

“Hmph.” Dean pouts, disappointed that he hasn’t succeeded in seducing his brother. “ _Fine._ You better remember this moment next time I won’t buy you that organic crap you're always whining for.” He lets go of Sam’s hair, turns on his heels, and stomps out of the library, notably frustrated.

“Thanks.” Sam sighs in a mixture of relief and exhaustion, then goes back to scanning the jumble of words in front of him, hearing Dean slam the door to his own room like an angsty teen. To be frank, he’d actually been pretty close to giving in to Dean’s offer and just barely managed to turn him down.

_‘...created from Brahma's foot; other sources claim they are descended from Pulastya, or from Khasa, or from Nirriti and Nirrita. Legend has it that many rakshasas were particularly wicked humans in previous incarnations.’_

The narration droned on inside Sam’s head, and he took notes on the pad of paper he had set up on the right side of the table, absently thinking that the lead he was chasing down in the papers was probably just a psychopath and not a supernatural being afterall. Well, at least it’s an opportunity to learn more from the books  about the dangerous creatures that they might have to deal with in the future.

His phone buzzes on the table then, and he just _knows_ that it’s Dean. Rolling his eyes, he picks it up, flicking the lock screen open with his thumb.

‘ _I’m *'_ the text reads. There was an emoji of a little wind instrument, Sam didn’t know what it was called precisely, but he texts back.

‘ _You’re a trumpet?_ ’

‘ _It’s a horn, so I’m…’_

Sam suddenly realises where this pick up line was going and decides to shoot it down before Dean could get anymore bright ideas.

‘ _So, you’re in a band?’_

_‘Ugh SAM, I know you see what I did there. I wanna bang :’(‘_

_‘I’m going to ignore you now.’_

Sam turns his phone on silent mode and sets it aside, rolling his eyes once more at his brother’s desperation. The guy basically lived and breathed nothing but sex, food, and beer.

_‘Rakshasas are notorious for disturbing sacrifices, desecrating graves, harassing priests, possessing human beings, and so on. Their fingernails are venomous, and they feed on human flesh and spoiled food. They are said to be shapechangers, but they prefer-’_

Sam jolts, suddenly aware of something rubbing against his dick through his jeans. Leaning back in his chair, he looks down and- of course.

Dean was on his knees under the table, nuzzling into the crease of Sam’s thigh and nosing at his crotch.

“ _Dean-”_ Sam starts in a warning tone. Seeing his older brother on his knees was doing wonders in making his traitorous cock harden, twitching slightly in his boxers as blood suddenly rushed into it.

“Listen, if you really don’t wanna do this, just ignore me. If I can’t give you a boner inside of a minute, I’ll leave.” Dean looks up, pupils dilated and plush lips looking like pure sin.

Sam clenches his fists tight, bracing himself against Dean’s assault on his senses. Hands come up around his denim-clad thighs, rubbing around his hips, caressing the connection between his thighs and torso, targeting all his sensitive spots. He mouths against Sam’s clothed member, using his lips and teeth to create friction against the rough fabric, sending vibrations through to him in a heady, intoxicating sensation.

Dean hardly does anything at all and Sam is already turning to putty in his hands. He wasn’t as unsusceptible to Dean’s tricks as he had hoped. _Oh, shit._

He trails his lips to above Sam's navel and peppers kisses all over the hard muscle, stopping at the V of his hips to suck deep purple marks in the delicate skin, and he couldn't resist biting a delicious-looking hip bone, making Sam's cock blurt precome in its confines.

Sam has to bite his lip to keep a groan from slipping out when Dean brings a hand up to massage his balls as he works his cock with his mouth. He uses broad licks of his tongue and starts paying close attention to the head, Sam feels the moisture seeping through the thick cloth and to his heated dick.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, all the stimulation is gone, Dean pulling back to admire Sam through lowered lashes.

“Still not feeling up to it?” He punctuates his question by cupping Sam’s unmistakably hard cock through his jeans, feeling it spasm under his touch, tenting the fabric shamelessly.

Sam regains enough control of his dry mouth to croak out, “I don’t know, Dean. I think I might need a little more convincing…”

His voice already sounds absolutely wrecked and as soon as the words leave his lips, Dean is back at work, hands going around Sam’s hips and down the back of his pants to grope his ass and pull his body a little further off the seat, granting himself better access. He uses his teeth to pop the button on Sam’s jeans and pulls the fly open without using his hands, even going as far as tugging the waistband of his boxers down with his mouth.

Sam would be lying if he said that watching him look so focused didn’t send a certain _thrill_ through his veins. Dean quite literally blew Sam away. Sam was smirking hazily at the pun but his face quickly goes slack under Dean's ministrations.

His lips are already hot and puffy from rubbing against the coarse fabric, and they look truly obscene wrapped around Sam. He was going down on him like a pro, doing it wet and dirty just the way Sam likes it, letting his drool run, not bothering to swallow anything except precome.

Sam isn’t faring so well on the other hand, he pants raggedly over the table, peeking down at Dean’s motions through the gap between the wooden edge and his heaving chest. He has two fingers in his mouth, sucking and biting on them alternatively, needing a distraction from the intensity of the stimulation. His other hand is fisted in his hair, the slight sting only serving to enhance his pleasure rather than tone it down. In other words, he is a hot mess.

Dean is busy under the table teasing Sam’s slit with the tip of his tongue while using one hand to pump the rest of his length. Pulling his hand off, he takes Sam as far as he can  into his scorching-hot throat. He moans a little around him and Sam becomes aware of a slick rubbing sound going on closer to the ground. With the two functioning brain cells he has left, he realises that Dean is jerking off while blowing him, and suddenly he is so much closer to coming than he’d thought.

Dean must have felt Sam’s thighs tense around his head, or maybe his dick was starting to spasm, or hell, maybe Dean was psychic, because suddenly his efforts doubled as he took Sam all the way down his throat, nose resting firmly against his neatly trimmed patch of hair, breathing in the scent of soap and Sam, swallowing around his length and using his tongue to stroke the thick vein on the underside.

Sam bites down on his fingers _hard_ as he groans and comes down Dean’s throat, and his brother dutifully swallows, gagging a little and pulling back so he wouldn’t let any of it spill. _We don’t spit; if it's in your mouth, you swallow it._ Dean had stayed true to that sentence ever since the first time they’d traded blowjobs in a ratty old motel. And therefore, so did Sam.

Sam completely pulls his chair away from the table, seeing Dean peak out from under it, still unbearably hard. He just gets _hungry_ at the sight of his big brother on his knees; full lips red and swollen, a small stream of come leaking out the side of his mouth, cheeks flushed a bright pink, and his dick dripping precome onto the wooden floorboards.

He wordlessly hauls him up from under the table, grabbing his hands and yanking them towards his chest, pulling him onto his lap and licking the heavy taste of his own come out of his mouth. Sam fucks Dean’s mouth with his tongue, the slide of their lips together getting hotter by the second. He catches Dean's tongue between his lips, sucks on it like it’s candy and hears him growl with arousal.

They sit there while Sam catches his breath, Dean straddling Sam’s lap with one hand desperately gripping the younger man’s shirt and the other tangled in his hair, holding their faces together. Sam has one hand down the back of Dean’s pants and is fondling the firm globes of his ass, while the other wraps around his cock, stroking it torturously slow, watching him lose patience and composure simultaneously. He begins to peel Dean’s shirt off, needing to feel more of his heated skin under his hands. Sam tosses the shirt out of his sight and circles his arms around Dean’s ribs.

“ _Sam, please...”_ He  whimpers into his brother’s mouth. Sam captures his lips in another searing kiss, both of them moving together in sync. He is already hard once again and he takes both of their cocks together, using Dean’s precome and the leftover spit on his dick to lubricate the strokes just enough to slide smoothly through his grip.

Their mouths part with a wet smack as they both groan at the sensation of their rigid lengths sliding together. Dean looks like he is starting to melt against his brother, his hips making desperate little thrusts into Sam’s hand, barely coherent enough to lick messily at Sam’s neck before stopping to pant hotly against his skin.

Seeing that Dean definitely earned himself an orgasm and that he was too far behind to catch up, Sam lets go of his own cock in favor of focusing on his brother. He uses every trick he had accumulated over the years, knowing exactly how Dean likes it. He speeds up his strokes, pushing onto the spot under the head on every other stroke and grinding his thumb into Dean’s slit every handful.

He was taking his time leaving his own marks on his brother’s freckled skin, sucking a mark right under his sharp jawline, another behind his ear, going lower and scattering more across his chest and collarbones. Dean has his head thrown back, eyes shut tight, groaning openly and breathlessly, his arms wrapped around Sam’s broad shoulders and holding on for dear life.

Sam pulls out all the stops, he finds Dean’s nipple and sucks on it tenderly, nipping the perky bud gently then laving over it with his tongue, making Dean flinch in surprise and then arch his back, pressing his chest against Sam’s face, his body begging for more.

He trails his hand up Dean’s thigh and down the back of his pants, fingers brushing his lower back and following it down his cleft to his tight hole. He presses his dry finger over it, not trying to breach, just putting pressure there and combined with all the stimulus running through him, Dean suddenly gasps before his thighs tense around Sam and he is coming all over his hand and his own abdomen, only a few small splatters landing on his brother’s shirt; but rendering both of their jeans undeniably due for a wash.

Dean leans back against the table and sighs shakily, propping himself up on his elbows. Sam gets lost in the way his chest rattles with uneven breathes, glistening with the slight sheen of sweat he had gained, the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat as he gulps, what that mouth had been doing only minutes ago; Dean trembles a little on his lap with aftershocks and sighs again, contentedly this time. He looks down at Sam with a smirk and that snaps him out of his trance and his body reminds him with a throb that his cock is still hard against his stomach.

Dean realises it at the same exact moment and looks down to where Sam’s dick is twitching, his face breaking into a wicked grin. Seeming to regain his energy, he sits up and gives Sam’s cock a few experimental tugs. Watching the flushed head weeping precome under his touch, and Sam’s forehead scrunching up so adorably he just _has_ to kiss it.

“Dean…” Sam says in a tone that he will forever claim was absolutely manly, not a whine at all.

“Yeah, Sammy. ‘M right here. What do you need, baby?” Dean was cradling Sam’s face in the palm of his hand, and Sam was rubbing his cheek against it like a kitten. Dean’s always been a dog person, but comparing a six foot three, 29 year old man to a baby cat makes him smile fondly.

He is almost ready to go for another round, and he’d showered earlier that morning in the hope that Sam would have him today; but he was willing to compromise if Sam wanted to bottom. He knew that regardless of his position, he would undoubtedly have a mind-blowing orgasm. So he chooses to let Sam decide. He idly plays with Sam’s ridiculously long hair that he makes so much fun of and waits for him to reply.

“Need you, Dean. Wanna be inside you…” Sam is just mumbling nonsense phrases against his shoulder, but it seems pretty clear to Dean that he’d be getting what he wanted.

“Okay, d’you wanna go to bed?” Dean pulls Sam’s head close and whispers in his ear, expecting Sam to lift him to their bed and do the rest there like he had a few times before.

Suddenly, Sam seems to become alert and he lifts Dean up. Then drops him right back onto the edge of the table. Dean is a little startled by this to say the least.

“Nah, I think we’re good right here. Don’tcha, De?” Sam speaks with a lilt that only comes out to play when he’s pretty far gone, and it brings Dean to a full mast real fast. His actual words are both dirty talk and confirmation, asking Dean if he’s actually alright.

“Mhmm, I’m with you on this one,” Dean affirms. Then they’re kissing hungrily, each trying to get as much contact with their lover as they could. Sam strips out of his shirts, barely letting go of Dean long enough to do so. Bare chests bumping against each other with heavy breaths, neither man relenting in his kisses, they grind against each other desperately. Sam blindly shoves all the books and papers on the tabletop off to the side before pushing Dean against it and following him down.

“Lube?” Sam asks. Dean curses himself internally; he forgot the small bottle he’d had with him the first time he tried to get Sam at his room when he was pretending to sulk.

“In my room…” Dean mumbles from behind the arm he threw across his face in an attempt to hide his shame at forgetting such an important thing. He feels Sam kiss his exposed chin and coax his arm away. There is so much reassurance in his eyes that Dean couldn’t help but feel his heart ache with love.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” Sam places an almost chaste kiss on Dean’s lips, except it lingers a little too long to be that. He leaves the library, jeans slung low on his swaying hips, the black hem of his boxers peeking out below miles of tanned back muscles, flowing with his spine down to his cute back dimples and terminating at the swell of his ass that was (unfortunately) obscured by his trousers.

Sam rounds the corner and looks back knowingly at Dean, leering at him over his shoulder before disappearing.

_Okay, two can play at this game._

Dean gets up off the table and shucks off his jeans and underwear then tosses them to the side along with all of their other discarded clothing laying on the floor. Next, he meticulously begins to arrange himself in the most lewd position he could think of.

When his brother walks back into the room, he almost drops the bottle he was rolling in his hands to help warm it up. His mouth actually falls open and he just stares at Dean, sprawled across the table, head resting on his folded-up forearms, chest pressing into the cold surface and spine arching sensually, legs spread wantonly, cock hanging hard and heavy between them.

_Is his hair messier than when he’d left him?_ Sam comes back to reality when Dean mirrors his earlier grin at him. He rushes over to run his hands appreciatively over all the exposed skin and smooth muscles, savoring the sight he could never get tired of looking at. His skin is buttery and warm, speckled with marks he was born with and countless ones he gained through his many years of hunting. Every single ‘flaw’ on his body seems like the most perfect masterpiece Sam’s ever laid his eyes on.

He gets caught up in mapping Dean’s back with his tongue and lets the plastic bottle tumble somewhere off the table and onto the floor, suddenly getting an idea. He licks his way down the dip of Dean’s spine, feeling him shiver in anticipation. They both know what’s coming next. Sam rids himself of his dirty jeans and tight boxers, feeling his cock spring up freely against his belly, and sinks down to his knees behind Dean, his posture strikingly similar to the pose of a man in worship...

\------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is always appreciated!  
> Please tell me if I got anything wrong (grammar or spelling wise... I aint here to argue abt whether Dean is actually blond or not smh)  
> So this is actually part 1... as the title implies... and I'm working on chapter two rn... leave a comment if you liked this chapter and or or would like another chapter where they actually do the do??  
> Suggestions are welcomed... if I like ur idea I might credit you?  
> Leave a kudos?  
> Thanks for reading this far, lmao dedication at its finest


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long awaited chapter two that took me forever to write whoops. Enjoy? At least they really have sex this time (fucking finally, no pun intended)

Sam loves eating Dean out. He could do it for hours on end. And he has. Just worked his brother into a quivering mess, until he could barely move, only sane enough to keep breathing after God knows how many orgasms. Of course this was back when they were younger and their bodies had not yet learned what a refractory period even meant, but Sam remembers not caring how exhausted his jaw and tongue became, he just loved seeing Dean so needy, pliant, and totally overwhelmed with pleasure.

However, Dean wasn't in his early twenties anymore and Sam was scared that if he pushed him too hard he might end up in a pseudo coma for a while. So in order to help himself deal with his possessive desires without totaling Dean for the next couple of days, Sam takes his time, sucking marks all over the backs of his legs, leaving dark bruises scattered on the soft skin on the insides of his thighs, in the crease right under his ass, and dangerously close to where he really wants the attention, but never actually indulging him.

He bites down on the plush skin of Dean's ass, right in the middle of his left cheek, just hard enough to leave a temporary mark but not enough to break the skin and he smiles a little smugly when he hears Dean whimper and feels his muscles tense up.

He goes back to kiss all the spots he marked, almost like he had signed his name on Dean's skin with his tongue. Sam could sense his patience being tested to its limits, so he decides to surprise Dean by giving him exactly what he wants. And it works.

Dean yelps in shock at feeling Sam’s tongue on his hole. Then he moans, long and loud, as Sam digs his thumbs into the space between his ass cheeks and grips onto them, pulling him apart and going at his brother’s twitching hole.

He uses broad strokes of his tongue from Dean's taint all the way to the top of his crack, and shorter licks around his rim that make Dean see stars and swear it could make you believe in God.

He laps at Dean’s softening hole with the flat of his tongue and then starts pushing his way in. Pointed tongue prodding at his ass, Dean starts to relax against Sam, letting him in and feeling the strong, slick muscle of his tongue slowly wriggle its way inside him.

Sam gives a couple more thrusts into his brother’s warmth and pulls back, only to fuse his mouth to the rim and suck, _hard._

Dean almost comes right then and there.

He's always loved everything about Sam. The way he smiles, forming those dimples Dean could never resist and showing off his titanium white teeth. The way he bitches, exasperated frown making a tiny wrinkle in his brow that Dean always wants to kiss until it's smooth again. And definitely in his top 5 favourite things about Sam is _the way he fucks_ . Whether it's slow and sweet, all soft kisses and gentle touches, or rough and filthy, all love bites on heated flesh and possessive growls deep in his throat, Sam always has sex with the same passion and focus he gives any other task. Either way if you're the center of his attention for the night, _boy_ are you in for a ride.

Dean does his best to hold on and not fall apart from the pleasure. Sam senses his desperation and brings a hand up from where it's been resting on the back of Dean's knee. Sliding his middle finger over the pink rim of Dean's hole makes him whine and press his hips back, trying to take it in, so Sam lets it happen, slowly working the slender digit inwards. When he's knuckle deep Dean immediately croaks out, “More” and Sam gives it to him, pulling out and coming back in with his middle and ring finger pressed together, feeling the tense muscle give and the silken walls clench around his fingers.

He starts pushing them in together and pulling them out splayed apart to help loosen him up, licking the hot space between his fingers.

Sam notices that his skin is catching too roughly on Dean's rim for his liking and stands up to look for the lube. He sees Dean panting and shuddering on the table, hands clutching the edges of the table so hard his knuckles are nearly bone-white. He worries for a second that he might have been hurting Dean but a quick glance at his hard cock leaking a steady stream of precome definitely proves otherwise.

He opens the cap with a click that makes Dean flinch and Sam shushes him soothingly as he pours an ample amount of the slick liquid over his hand where his fingers stretch Dean open. At first, Dean wriggles away from the cool sensation, but as soon as Sam spreads it around with a few gentle swipes and curls his fingers downwards, Dean can't even think about anything other than wanting to come with the fireworks that light up behind his closed eyelids and make pleasure thrum through his very bones.

Sam smiles in awe at Dean’s hole greedily swallowing his fingers, almost like it's sucking on them, and he adds a third finger on his next thrust in, marveling at how the pitch of Dean's moans rises immediately.

He gets lost in teasing all the different sensitive spots and listening to Dean's reactions; he only realises that he's been edging Dean for almost half an hour when he lets out a frustrated sob and reaches back to grip Sam's wrist weakly. Sam looks up at him and sees tears gathering at the corners of his eyes and starting to drip onto his high cheekbones that are colored bright red with the exertion of being brought to the precipice of orgasm and back, over and over, for 30 minutes straight. Dean could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears echoing to the throb in his dick. He screws his eyes shut and the tears cling to his long lashes as Sam extracts his fingers with a wet squelch.

He drapes himself over Dean's back and uses his clean hand to wipe away his tears with whispered apologies and praise. He peppers kisses all over his face in apology for pushing him so far. His skin is too hot, almost feverish with the circulation of his blood so close to the surface of his skin, making it so sensitive to every touch.

“ _Sammy…_ ” Dean whimpers and nuzzles his face closer to Sam's, turning over on the table and pressing his chest into Sam's.

“It's okay, Dean. Want me to keep going?”

Dean wraps his strong thighs around Sam's hips in lieu of an answer and grinds their cocks together, grabbing a hold of Sam's hair and growling against his mouth before his lips part and it's like they're trying to get into each other through their mouths. He nudges Sam's lower back with his sock-covered heel and lightly scrapes his teeth against Sam's tongue, making a shiver run all the way down his spine and giving an involuntary buck to his hips.

Without relinquishing the touch of his brother he blindly gropes around for the lube and flicks it open, pouring a copious amount over their turgid lengths and stroking them together until they are both sliding slick between Sam's fingers as they groan into each other's mouths. The friction and the contact and the heat all feels so good Dean's fingers dig into Sam's shoulders as he gets more and more desperate for the main event. He lets his bowed legs spread easily, trying to get the idea to Sam without letting that glorious mouth off his. Sure enough the message gets through, loud and clear.

Sam pulls back reluctantly to set the head of his cock against Dean's entrance, looking into his eyes and waiting for confirmation. Dean takes a deep breath then nods and starts pulling Sam in towards himself, letting his muscles relax as his ass stretches to take in Sam's sizeable cock. He feels the rings of muscle give way, inch by heated inch, fluttering as they make space for the welcomed intrusion. Dean exhales slowly and stops pulling Sam further, despite having only about half his length enveloped in Dean's warmth, and his insides clench involuntarily, making them both groan and reach out to each other.

Sam kisses Dean through it, giving him room to breathe and adjust, but also providing a distraction and heat with his mouth that leaves his body pliant and willing. Once he feels his ass stop twitching, he pulls Sam in the rest of the way and his head thuds against the table with a breathy moan when he feels so _full_ he could scarcely breathe around it.

Sam gives him more time, kisses his chest, down his sternum and right over his heart, feeling it beat under Dean's ribs rabbit-fast and in tandem to his own. With the arm not wrapped around Dean's waist he reaches down and gives Dean's cock a couple of pumps using his slick hand, feeling it fill out even more and helping his tense muscles relax enough that Sam starts grinding his cock into Dean, moving in tiny little thrusts to help ease his lover into it.

He notices Dean starts to echo his rhythm with the swivel of his hips and begins moving in slightly larger increments, only pulling out an inch or two at a time before pushing back in and making Dean gasp with that stretched out, too full sensation. He leans back to look at Dean's face and gauge where he's at, seeing his brother’s slack face staring back at him with a pleasured glaze to his unfocused eyes. His mouth is red and spit shiny and letting out such beautiful noises Sam just _has_ to lick his way into it as he buries his cock back to the hilt in Dean's ass. He licks his way along the open seam of Dean's lips and sweeps his tongue in to taste as much of him as he can, sucking on his tongue and licking along his gums before reigning himself back in to let Dean breathe before he suffocates. Not that either of them seems to be in any shape to complain.

Dean is, however, in shape to gasp between heavy pants, “harder, Sammy” and moan when he obeys immediately. Sam changes his grip on Dean's legs, pulling one over his shoulder and the other over his hip, planting an absent kiss on the inside of Dean's calf where it rests next to his face. Then he starts to let loose. He can feel deep arousal flood his veins as he aims his thrusts upwards and onto the swollen gland of Dean's prostate, just to hear him cry out in pleasure as the head of his cock glances off the bundle of nerves and drives deep inside him. The change of angle seems to be bearing immediate fruit as they both approach the brink of orgasm in a rush.

Dean feels the pleasure drown out all other thoughts from his head in sharp electric bursts as Sam hits that perfect spot with laser-sharp precision. He has enough brain activity left in him to feel a faint smug pride at the thought that he taught Sam so well, but soon it seems like functioning brain cells are as hard to come by as water in a desert because Sam has a hand on his cock and he's pretty sure that if this goes on much longer his brain is going to completely liquify and shoot out of his dick.

Sam's thrusts turn erratic as he chases their orgasms and finds Dean's first, feeling him tense up from head to toe and watching his back arch up from the table so sharply he worries Dean might hurt himself, but the movement just brings out all the dips and swells of Dean's thick muscles and the rigid lines of his strong bones trapped underneath. He can't resist biting into the meat of one shoulder just as Dean's climax crests and it earns him a few more weak spurts of come dribbling down his stomach and over Dean's softening cock. Sam gets a handful of thrusts into Dean's slowly unwinding form before he too finds release and is painting Dean's insides a hot, pearly white.

They lay there in a panting mess of limbs until their minds catch up to reality and Sam starts to push off of Dean and try to pry away the death grip his thighs have around his hips.

“C’mon, Dean, we gotta get cleaned up.” Sam tries to reason with him as best as he can and Dean begrudgingly lets Sam go and looks down to watch him extract his dick from Dean's ass with a squelching pop and strings of come stretching between their bodies as it cools. He can't help admiring how sexy-edging-disgusting the sight is and then he remembers the last time he just kept it inside and how long his whole digestive system was on lockdown because of the severe stomach aches and all of a sudden he's bolting out of the room in his birthday suit yelling, “bathroom break!” over his shoulder. Sam is a little confused at first until all of his brain decides to log back online and then he chuckles to himself because this was Dean's idea so there was no way he would ever point out a flaw in his own plan like how he just jumped Sam without condoms at the ready. Not that Sam was complaining. It's not like it's his ass that's gonna suffer.

Dean comes back a minute or two later, looking a lot calmer and basking in the glory of the afterglow. He throws a wet towel at Sam’s face and gets to picking up their clothes to toss in the hamper right away. Sam briefly catches his wrist right before he leaves and in the second it takes Dean to look up he's pressing their lips together one last time and smiling into it.

Then he whips the wound up towel at his brother's ass with a satisfying whip-like crack, hearing the yelp of surprise he gets in return and trying not to laugh himself into asphyxiation. Dean looks up at Sam in mock betrayal. Then he pinches the skin of Sam's lower belly and twists as hard his can with his thumb and index before making a flat-out run for his life, buttass naked, dashing through the bunker to lock himself in the bathroom and laugh his ass off.

Man, today was a good day in Dean's book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy so yeah. There's. That.  
> Leave a kudos and or or a comment if you liked that bc that's what keeps my soul fed.  
> Comment if you found any errors that are glaringly obvious bc i am posting this at literally 4 am but i aint here to argue on technicalities like what kinda floor they have in the bunker, okay?  
> Have a great day/night/whatever concept of time you choose to believe in!

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism is always appreciated!  
> Please tell me if I got anything wrong (grammar or spelling wise... I aint here to argue abt whether Dean is actually blond or not smh)  
> So this is actually part 1... as the title implies... and I'm working on chapter two rn... leave a comment if you liked this chapter and or or would like another chapter where they actually do the do??  
> Suggestions are welcomed... if I like ur idea I might credit you?  
> Leave a kudos?  
> Thanks for reading this far, lmao dedication at its finest


End file.
